Childhood's End

                                In our paranoid Tea Party age, the 
benevolent alien Overlords of “Childhood’s End” are a tough sell        
                    

    					    
                                It's far from a total loss, but there's 
not a lot of Arthur C. Clarke left in this Syfy adaptation              
              

    					    Scott Timberg

                                 (Credit: Syfy)
                            

                                                                        A
 longtime inhabitant on lists of the best-ever science-fiction novels, 
Arthur C. Clarke’s “Childhood’s End” has – after decades of failed 
attempts – now become a six-hour miniseries on Syfy. (The first episode 
premieres tonight.) The show involves some substantial people – Charles 
Dance from “Game of Thrones” plays an important role, it’s produced by 
Michael De Luca, and the writers have roots in “Doctor Who.” There are 
reasons for optimism here.One
 day, alien ships appear above cities around the world, from Mumbai to 
Rio to New York. Apparently, these aliens – quickly dubbed the 
Overlords, though they were hoping for something a little more benign, 
like “visitors” – will end war, famine, suffering, and most other kinds 
of unpleasantness. Along the way, mankind will maintain its autonomy.“We’re
 not conquerers, we’re enablers,” the British-accented head Overlord, 
Karellen (Dance) announces. Soon, he convinces a handsome Midwestern 
farmer named Stormgren (Mike Vogel) to becomes what another character 
calls “the sole spokesperson for an alien race.” Stormgren, who could 
come from a Dockers commercial, appears in just about every scene in the
 debut episode, pleading with people – including an ornery, rebellious 
group called the Freedom League — to trust the Overlords.
It’s no 
secret that books are tricky to adapt in even the best of circumstances,
 and cerebral, philosophical science-fiction novels don’t have a great 
batting average. “The Man in the High Castle” lost some of its ideas and
 became something closer to a well-designed action movie, to the dismay 
of some fans. If you’re an admirer of Clarke’s work in general and his 
novel in specific, “Childhood’s End” is likely to frustrate you at least
 a little, and maybe a lot.
Clarke’s novel “2001: A Space 
Odyssey,” turned into one of the most successful science-fiction 
adaptations in history. That book was, in its way, as cerebral as 
“Childhood’s End.” But the movie had one major advantage over SyFy’s 
adaptation: Director Stanley Kubrick trusted the book’s slow pace, and 
brought his own eccentric style and meditative tone to the material. 
“Childhood’s End,” by contrast, feels generic. It communicates neither 
Clarke’s style nor a directorial vision. In contrast to “High Castle,” 
for instance, its visuals and design are simply bland.
Of the 
major science-fiction novelists of mid-century, Clarke – an Englishman 
who later moved to Sri Lanka – was the most philosophical and the most 
elegant prose writer. He was also, despite his fascination with the 
future, an old-fashioned humanist in lot of ways. (He was also, most 
likely, a closeted homosexual in a subculture that was still had a 
strong macho streak.) One of the tensions in “Childhood’s End” is 
whether the gifts the Overlords bring – world peace and all the rest – 
are worth if it mankind becomes less human. The novel doesn’t really 
work if there’s not some ambiguity around the idea.